


The Tails of HiveR Wells

by Hiver_Frost_Elf



Series: The Tales of HiveR Wells [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: ? - Freeform, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, Cats, Disney Haters Go Away, Disney Movies, Disneyathon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hugs, POV Alternating, POV Second Person, Pets, Savitar identity spoilers, Self-Insert, Stop Bullying HR Foundation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 04:05:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10868733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiver_Frost_Elf/pseuds/Hiver_Frost_Elf
Summary: Twix’s death is the first kitty casualty HFE has endured all by himself.And then of course, Julian belittled that death.





	1. HFE POV

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed & barely edited.  
> Dedicated to Twix and those who lament the lack of HR fics.  
> Title inspired by The Tales of HR Wells: the novel HR is writing on the show. **I** consider my pets major characters in my life... and my family, too, but they’re not dead irl; they’re only dead for the purposes of this fic. I promise my life isn’t as tragic as this fic makes it out to be! It’s actually rather uneventful beyond comments I receive from you lovely folks

It takes FOREVER for someone to die on TV.  They stick around long enough to give you one last piece of advice or request, and then you move on.  You see a character’s death coming miles away, whether via spoilers from associates or not so clever foreshadowing.  You have time to prepare.  It’s expected.  There’s only so many punches an author can pull before an audience calls bullshit, and suddenly killing off one of their faves lies firmly in the bullshit category.

Twix’s death was nothing like that.  One minute he was alive; not even a second later, the vet was pulling his corpse into a more comfortable position and whispering, “I’m sorry.”

Hobbes tried to escape, Tiger was perched on the pantry, and Abbi was snoozing on the piano bench when you came home with an empty cat carrier.  You sit in your old recliner.  Twix would sit in your lap in this one but not in the red recliner in the living room, yet he adored your weird not-a-lawn-chair... thing nearby.  He and Tiger are the only cats who do, and Tiger only likes it if you’re sitting in it.

You don’t do much of anything the next day, which is just as well since you have the day off.  You were so excited about it, too.  You’ve been working on a fairly large project for the better part of the month now in addition to helping Team Flash deal with Savitar, and this was your first day in too long to truly relax.

You’re supposed to feel sad or depressed, but you felt as empty as a lap without a pudgy tabby.  Treats become tasteless.  Beloved songs drown in a sea of _he’s dead he’s dead he’s dead he’s dead he’s dead_.  Not even writing helps. Not really.

You’re... functional the next day.  Quieter than normal, but folks are used to that.  You don’t plan to tell anybody about Twix— _Savitar’s recruited Killer Frost, and you’re crying over your freakin’ cat???  Pull yourself together, Hiver!_ —but unfortunately for you, Julian’s smarter than the average bear.

“You have three other cats,” he shrugs.

_HE WOULDN’T BE SAYING “You have another kid” TO JOE IF SAVITAR MURDERS IRIS!!!_

It’s a windy day up on the roof of STAR Labs.  Your legs are dangling off the ledge.  Twix’s forepaws dangled off the cot when the vet came in to euthanize him.  He DID NOT want to be on that cot; he wanted to be with you.  You’re hugging yourself and sniffling when HR finds you.  He sits down crisscross applesauce next to you.  Wordlessly, he sends you a photo of Twix resting under the quilt on your pullout couch when you invited HR over for a Disneyathon.  Earth-19 doesn’t have Disney movies—unless you include Star Wars, which you don’t; although it’s nice to know that KOTOR has its own film—and you refused to associate with anyone who hadn’t seen _Lilo & Stitch_ at least once.

The photo’s fuzzy. Fitting.  Twix felt soft and sleek despite his blimp-like build.  He was so cuddly at the vet’s office.  He’s always been a cuddle bug, but that afternoon, especially so.

You’re not a touchy person.

Well, that’s not exactly true.  You’re tactile.  If your nearest hand’s free, you slide it along the walls of STAR Labs.  You used to do that with the lockers and the walls in high school.

If somebody hugs you first, you’re not gonna deny ‘em; sometimes, folks need a hug.  It helps them, and it doesn’t hurt you, so hug away.

It’s hard for you to make friends because moving around so much growing up taught you that people aren’t permanent.  It prepared you for the storm-after-storm-after-storm of Team Flash.  Eddie died, Ronnie died, Doctor Wells turned out to be Eobard Thawne and died yet came back to life and died again, Jay Garrick turned out to be Zoom and died and also came back to life-ish and died again, The Man in the Iron Mask turned out to be Jay Garrick who left, Harry and Jesse left but Jesse came back only to leave with Wally, Killer Frost conquered Caitlin and left, and apparently Barry became Savitar and left in an alternate timeline.

It’s easier to adopt cats instead.  They’re not outdoor cats unless you’re supervising them, and half an hour of chasing Hobbes around the neighborhood taught you that he shouldn’t be allowed that much—plus it’s healthier to keep them indoors.  But as much as you love your cats, none of them are Twix, and that’s okay.  Abbi doesn’t like cuddling period, Hobbes tolerates it for two seconds before he devolves into kill-maim-torture, and Tiger sticks around if you pick him up yet rarely initiates anything unless you’re sitting in your weird not-a-lawn-chair thing.

What this rambling spiel means is that when you need a hug, you have no idea how to request one nor whom to request one from.  The fact that HR isn’t chattering away and drawing you into one speaks to your reputation as Team Flash’s stray who brings them dead mice or whatever and leaves after exchanging them for treats.  Ironically, HR’s the member you’re closest to, and he’s only been around for half a year, tops.

“May I hug you?” he asks.  More air than sound pours out of his lips.

You don’t want to come across as a needy child, but you’re a needy child!  You slump against him before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.  Your tears ruin HR’s hispid sweater as your breath quakes against his chest.


	2. HR POV

HFE ruffled up when Team Flash cringed at your culture, punched Francisco when he said “You sure your buddy Randolf back home didn't just solve that cryptogram to get rid of you?", and encouraged you to pursue Harry until he spat in your coffee... then he punched your handsome doppelgänger and stole his Friends Day card because “jerks like him don’t deserve you”.  He followed it up with, “Who cares if you’re not the smartest version of Harrison Wells?  You’re the nicest version of Harrison Wells, and that makes you a better version of Harrison Wells than Harry could ever hope to be.”

Mic drop.

Ironically, the kid with no friends was the most eager to celebrate Friends Day.  The first time you met—well, “met” is a strong word; perhaps “glimpsed” would work better.  The whole affair reminded you of an Animal Planet documentary—Francisco claimed that HFE didn’t care about anything.  And you can see how Team Flash got that impression.  He faces threats and celebrates victories with a blasé expression, he goes off to do his own thing after he’s been debriefed, and he doesn’t drink coffee or eat hamburgers.  That last one is a silly excuse to ostracize someone, but in a group of caffeine addicts and Big Belly Burger fans, it’s another strike against him.

But after overhearing HFE verbally throttle Iris for claiming that Nani didn’t qualify to be a Disney princess, you have revised your once biased information.

“Fuck you!” HFE hissed after Iris’s infamous opinion on the subject.

“That escalated quickly,” Iris held up her hands and laughed. “Maybe you should have Cait check you out, cuz you’re sassy today.”

HFE glared at her and simmered: one last chance for her to redact her statement before listing off Nani’s awesomeness.  You had no clue what they were talking about, which led to HFE abducting you to educate you on the magic of Disney movies.

Now you know that Francisco was vastly misinformed.  If HFE doesn’t care about something, that thing doesn’t exist; but if HFE does care about something, he’ll defend its honor with his life.

He’s also on his way to becoming a crazy old cat man.  Hobbes is a serial killer, you’ve only seen photographic evidence of Tiger’s existence, and Abbi ignores you; but Twix slept by your legs every time you spent the night at HFE’s residence.

Twix’s death is the first kitty casualty HFE has endured all by himself.  His father and eldest younger brother were at STAR Labs when the particle accelerator exploded because the young lad loved science.  Then his mother and youngest younger brother died during the singularity crisis.  He’s not too close to his extended family, and you have a hunch that it’s probably for the same reasons he isn’t with Team Flash.

And then of course, Julian belittled that death.

You track HFE down to his favorite part of STAR Labs.  Paw print hoodie, jeans, Avengers cap: aka his favorite outfit, aka one of the surest signs that he doesn’t give a damn anymore.  By the smell of it, he most likely wore it yesterday as well.  Who cares about laundry when your furry baby dies?  Well, Twix was the oldest, but he was still only eight years old.  Plus, HFE and his family adopted him when he was small enough to fit in one hand.

HFE is gripping something in his hand.  One glimpse of white and you realize that it’s the star-shaped ornament with a photo of kitten Twix and a black-furred cat named Dustin Hoffman—he came with his name; they all came with their names.  DH and a dog named Otis were long since dead by the time you came to Earth1.

He barely looks at you.  Nobody likes showing vulnerability, but everything about him—his hunched posture, his shivering form, and his bottled up sorrow—screams “If I had my way, you’d have no idea how much of a mess my life is right now cuz your life is already enough of a mess; you deserve better than a worthless weirdo worrying you”.  Sometimes, the quietest folks speak the loudest.

Oh so gently, you coax him out of his THOU SHALT NOT EMOTE OR RELY ON ANYBODY OR THOU BE WEAK mindset to give him the comfort he clearly needs.  His hand doesn’t leave yours and his head doesn’t rise as you request transport back to his house from Francisco.  Hobbes arches up from atop the cat tree and observes you two stepping through the portal while Tiger flees into the basement and Abbi flaps her tail.  HFE flops onto the couch while you grab _Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic_ and _Lilo & Stitch_.  You settle on the other end, as is customary.  His hat hides his eyes, but you know he’s looking at you.  He scoots over gradually, fearing you might swat him away.  He’s a lot like a sick cat this way: hiding his pain, hesitant to open up.

He’s tucked safely in your arms by the time Trask bellows, “For the Republic!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking time to read this :3 enjoy what you do here and everywhere :3


End file.
